Trial by liar

I'm asleep in this waxen straitjacket

a cocoon of crimes dealt with vengeance

my comuppance for wanting laziness

to be all I drink and breathe.

Dying leaves fall softly

dancing in whirlwinds of uncaring

songs about how the world was much safer

when predators knew their place.

I'm transforming in this liars coffin

becoming what I never dared to be

a skysong bright and clear

sending lilting notes of discontent

burrowing into your cortex softly

and slipping away with your memories

of birthday cake and first kisses.

My wings are bursting forth

transluscent and impossible

from this whip-lashed back that

carried the sins of my father

upon its dirty, screaming frame

never complaining, never satisfied

until the clouds carry me away

into a star filled ocean

home away from home

endlessly beautiful

forever misunderstood.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

being the blue caterpillar

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